Brotherly Love
by Lomadia
Summary: Fred/George ::twincest warning:: The twins talk about their 'relationship', but talking doesn't seem to be the most pressing thing or their minds. I suck at summaries, please R&R!


Brotherly Love

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Harry Potter, or anything about it. JK Rowling and Warner Brothers do. I just put the characters in unlikely situations because I want to, and have a lot of fun and satisfaction doing so. 

A/N: I was never planning on writing a fic quite like this, especially not with the pairing. But I seem to have grown to like it, so here you are. I actually think it's quite sweet, but whether you agree or not **shrugs**, 's nothing to do with me. Just please please read and review! With a cherry on top? ^_~

Warnings: Yes, this is a Fred/George slash. Which means twincest. If that's not your thing, don't read, simple as that. You have been warned. 

Beta: Thanks again Willow, for giving me much-needed confidence and correcting my appalling grammar. ^_^

Brotherly Love

"No! Arthur you can't be serious?!" Came the shrill voice from inside the Weasley family's somewhat 'space conserving' dining room. 

"Yes Molly." He replied sighing. "Caught them at it just this morning. I couldn't believe it!"

The Weasley twins stopped dead in their tracks, both wishing they hadn't chosen exactly the wrong moment to come downstairs. It was the first day of the summer holidays, and they were enjoying the prospect of doing next to nothing for 6 blissful weeks. But hearing their father's voice, the volume alone told them whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good. 

"George!" Fred hissed, dragging him back roughly by the collar, so that they could see their parents, but not visa-versa. 

"They can't know?!" He mouthed, rubbing his neck. It already sported several red marks, which were slowly beginning to bruise. Fred softly kissed them. The marks were more than a sign of affection. They stood as a statement of 'fuck you' to the world, an anonymous message. George muttered "vampire" under his breath, the tone making them both chuckle, before instinctively putting a hand over the other's mouth, letting fingers trail down his throat. 

"Course they can't." He tried desperately to feel as confident as he knew he looked.

"I can't believe it." She said after a minute, mimicking her husband's earlier words. "That Skeeter woman actually managed to get ministry information out of Barty Crouch?! Why would she want it?" 'Actually, that's pretty obvious.' She thought after speaking. "More's the question, what she did to get it." 

"Yes, I wonder if…"

It was all Fred could do to stop himself laughing out loud at the way his brother had reacted to the conversation. 

'Ministy information?' He said to himself 'Tsch who cares?! Well, apart from Dad of course.' 

Firmly but gently, he grabbed his twin's wrist before pulling him up the stairs. He squealed slightly, but otherwise remained quiet. Fred's ability to take the lead made him feel safe in a way he knew no-one else ever would. But he often hid this by complaining, not sure of how open he wanted to be. They knew each other inside out now, perfect replicas of each other, sharing a bond that nobody, nothing, could break. 'Outside so identical.' George mused. 'But inside so different.'

Once up the stairs, and in the small room they shared, Fred collapsed onto his bed. He let tears of laughter (relief?) run down his cheeks. George sat on his own bed, attempting to slow his heartbeat.

"Bloody hell. Paranoid much?" He choked, finally managing to stop laughing after seeing his brother's face. 

"Glad you find it so funny." Came the mumbled reply. 

Fred sighed and got up, moving to sit on the bed of his…twin? Soul-mate? Reflection? Settling himself just behind, so they weren't quite touching, he blew lightly across his brother's neck. Shivers ran down his spine as the cold air touched earlier sensitised skin. 

"What's up?" He asked finally, now letting a finger run gently down the spine of the boy in front of him. 

"Stop it." His voice was barely audible. 

"Why?" The other breathed. 

"Because this is /wrong/ Fred, we're brothers for crying out loud!" He turned away, face completely void of emotion. 

"That's what all this is about?!" Was the disbelieving answer. "The *immorality* of sleeping with your 16 year old twin didn't bother you this morning. Or, any other time for that matter."

He gave George a poke in the ribs, giggling as he jumped, before almost falling off the bed. He grabbed him just as the boy began to topple, pulling the unsteady form onto his lap, holding him tightly. George felt strong arms being wrapped around his waist, and allowed himself to relax against his brother's body. Fingers ran through messy red hair, all thoughts of immorality momentarily disappearing. 

"Don't let the world get to you." He rested his chin on top of George's head, leaving it there for a moment and following George's gaze to the blank wall opposite them.

"Mmm, I'll try not to."

Fred's head shifted, and kisses were placed softly across his jawline in response. "I don't care what anyone else thinks George, they don't need to know."

His twin shifted in his lap so they were facing, both sighing at the more intense contact. 

"All that matters is us, the way we feel when we're together. We're two halves of the same person don't you see that?"

Legs were hooked around Fred's waist, in a gesture that said, 'If you don't shut that gorgeous mouth of yours /right now/, I won't be held responsible for my actions. 

"George, look me in the eyes and tell me us, this, is wrong.

Eyes met, and for a moment neither spoke. They heard only the other's breath, felt only the other's heartbeat. Both had synchronised. They /were/ one. 

"We're not. It's not."

"Glad you agree."

"Fred?"

"Yuh-huh?" He mumbled into George's shoulder, whose shirt he had managed to gently slide off without him realising.

"Shut up."

"With pleasure."

As if to emphasise his point, George pressed his lips against those of his twin, revelling in the familiar sensations flooding through his skin. He deepened the kiss, sliding Fred's shirt off his back and running his fingers down the firm skin. It was surprisingly like looking in a mirror. A mirror that kissed back, he reminded himself, laughing into the other boy's mouth at the thought. 

Fred pulled away, making him whimper at the loss of contact. 

"Must you find everything so amusing?"

"Sorry." He muttered, making his best forlorn face. 

"You realise you're going to have to pay for that?"

"Oh really? And how do you suppose I do that then?"

"You bloody well know."

The next morning, the two woke up in each other's arms. Fred placed a light kiss on his brother's forehead, before repeating the gesture on his lips. George made a thoroughly contented sound in response.

He looked at one of the photos on his bedside table and smiled. It showed two identical red-haired boys, cuddled up in one of the Weasley's armchairs. They couldn't have been more than 5 years old. Two innocent children, even then sharing a bond that would never be broken. Over the years it had grown to be something so much more than that. 

'Take your prejudices somewhere else, world.' Fred thought and silently prayed. 'You don't know anything.' He settled back under the covers, George now lying cradled against him.

'Go away, world. You're never taking my brother away from me.'

"I love you." He whispered to his brother's half-awake form.

"Love you too."

***

A/N: So, I'm guessing you've read. You know what you're gonna do now don't you?! (Hint hint, wink wink, nudge nudge.) Hope ya liked.


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